Turning
by generationloki
Summary: Thor remembers how Loki turned, turned, turned.
1. PROLOGUE: Thor

**Notes:**

Yes I have caved into the pressure of the iceskater!Loki trope, but of course with Frostiron.  
This one is in Thor's POV but the next chapter will be a replay of the same events in Loki's POV.  
Thanks to Kourtney for beta'ing :D

* * *

Thor remembers how Loki turned, turned, turned.

Thor also remembers when Loki first saw the Olympics. It was the winter games, in Japan when Loki was 4 years old and Thor was 8. The small, frail little boy had had the flu and was restricted to his bed, wrapped in many blankets. The television in the lounge room was on. Loki was getting better, so he was lying down on the couch, watching the games with wonder.

Thor doesn't know why figure skating enticed him so much. All he knows is that as soon as one of the skaters did a turn on the ice, Loki crawled toward the television and sat in front of it so that his runny nose was nearly pressed against the screen.

_"Tor," he mumbled. "What are tey doin'?"_

_"It's called figure skating, Loki."_

_"Pretty." He went back to watching the television. "I wanna be pretty too. I'm gonna be a figure sating person like dem."_

Thor had laughed at his little brother's foolishness.

But who knew that it was his foolishness that brought him to the Winter Olympics of 2014. It was in Russia, and Loki had always wanted to go to Russia. Loki was only 20 years old, and the best on the USA squad. Thor watches him twirl and turn and move over the ice easily. He smiles at his mother sitting next to him who smiles back. Thor entwines his fingers with hers and turns his attention back to the rink. Pride swells up in his chest.

"He's done well," he says, almost to himself. "I'm proud of him."

"We all are," Frigga says. "Your father especially. I wish he had been well enough to come."

"Me too."

Thor watches his brother spin and spin and spin, twisting his body effortlessly as he does so. The music pumps through the speakers. Thor grins.

He remembers how much this means to Loki. He remembers how difficult it was in the winter to drag Loki away from the frozen lakes and how he'd be training oh so hard. Loki was a very hard worker. He never stopped and although it was worrying, it was what he loved.

_"You'll overwork yourself," Thor had told him. "I've been looking up figure skating injuries you know. Injuries are most commonly due to working yourself too hard. You should go on vacation, maybe to Fiji or something."_

_Loki replied, "Those are common injuries and I am most definitely not a common man. I'll be fine, Thor. Besides, I hate hot weather, you know that."_

Thor watches his brother carefully. His routine is about half over now. He glances to his other side where Loki's best friend Tony sits. Tony holds a bunch of expensive flowers. Everyone knew who Tony Stark is. He's the owner of a technology company, Stark Industries, one of the largest in the world. Thor knows that the flowers are for Loki because they are his favourite kind, white roses, and because he helped Tony pick them out himself. Tony is going to ask Loki to be his boyfriend today. They've been fooling around for a long while now and Thor knows that Loki is head over heels in love with the man. Whatever happens today, Loki is going to say yes, Thor is sure.

Thor squeezes his mother's hand as Loki succeeds in another turn. He smiles widely. Only a half a minute to go and then Loki is finished. He's made no mistakes and it's been flawless. He's bound to get gold. Loki is much better than the other skaters.

Thor stifles a gasp as Loki leaps into the air, turning, turning, turning then lands again. His brother is beautiful. His black costume glitters. Loki leaps again, he turns, he turns, he turns, he turns, and then he falls back through the air.

At first Thor's mind doesn't register anything happening. The whole crowd gasps in unison, standing up and looking at the rink. Their hypnotic state the beautiful man had put them in has been broken. Thor stands and looks down as well.

In Loki's years of competitive, he's never fallen in a competition. Never. Not once. He is too precise. It is because of this, he knows that Loki did push himself too hard this time. The paramedics are rushing onto the rink. It's as if everything is in slow motion. The music has stopped, leaving eery silence. Even Loki is silent. His face is solemn. Most people would think that this is a sign of indifference but Thor knows that expression too well.

He knows that Loki is breaking.

Loki sits on the ice of the 2014 Winter Olympics, for he has finally made it, with his lower leg bent painfully to the side because he landed wrong.

Thor cannot find himself to move, to think, to feel. Loki has lost his chance, there's no way he'll get a medal now or even compete at the next winter games. Skaters with broken legs cannot skate and rehabilitation is something Loki will not accept with ease. He will not accept that he's been injured, Thor knows that he won't.

Skating for Loki is like breathing. He needs it to survive. He uses it as a therapy. When he was bullied at school, he'd head to the rink to clear his mind. When their father started getting sick, he'd go to the rink to escape. He had met Tony at the rink. Tony was working there and made an insinuating comment on Loki's ass. Thor remembers that Loki had at first hated the boy with a firey passion. But now that boy watches on as Loki's best friend and would-be boyfriend as Loki is put on a stretcher and his leg is splinted.

He has missed his chance at being the best. He would have been the best. But Loki is still the best to Thor. Loki is Thor's most favourite person in the world. Loki heaves his forearm over his eyes as his makeup smudges from his tears. His harsh sobs echo throughout the silent rink.

Thor knows he isn't crying because of the pain in his most likely broken ankle. He's crying because he lost. Thor knows Loki like the back of his hand.

Thor watches as Loki is taken off the ice, headed for the exit and he knows that the hospital is after that.

He can vaguely feel Tony and Frigga trying to push him away from the stands, trying to get him to move so they could "meet Loki. He needs us, we must go to him, Thor."

They lead him out of the stadium and into a cab that follows the ambulance because they know Loki wouldn't want to be crowded right now. He needs his space.

Thor remembers how Loki turned, turned, turned.

* * *

**Notes:**

I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review if you want to see the Loki POV as I might not end up writing it if there is no interest in this...


	2. PROLOGUE: Loki

Just breathe.

In, out. In, out.

Loki breathes deeply and evenly, trying to calm himself. In... and... out. His hands are on his chest, moving up and down with the pace of his breathing. He trails his hands down his outfit, his palms catching on the sparkly material.

In, out. In, out.

He knows he is meant to be there. He knows that he is meant to be there in that ice rink in the 2014 Winter Olympics of Russia. It feels right; it feels natural. This is what his whole life was building up to—this moment.

Loki steps forward, perfectly balanced on his ice skates. He breathes deeply, in and out. He hears the announcer speak his name, loudly and clearly.

"And now for Loki Laufey-Odinson representing the USA in the mens singles free skate."

He puts on his mask over his face, his grin wide and proud as he skates out to the middle of the ice, waving as he does so. He relishes the feel of the ice beneath his feet as he slides out with ease. Loki's eyes scan straight over to the VIP box where he can just make out his mother, brother and his best friend, Tony. He barely suppresses a blush when the sound of Tony and Thor's whooping cheers reach his ears. He blows kisses to the crowd as they roar and chant. He's no longer the youngling underdog that they thought he was when he first got into the team. The country has seen him perform and think of him as their hero. Loki is a god.

The adrenaline pumps through him. He takes in the awesome atmosphere of the Olympic games. He's here. He's made it. Finally. 15 years of figure skating has paid off. Loki brushes off his shoulders, adjusting the black and grey fur lining his skintight outfit. He takes another deep breath. In, and out.

They're cheering for him, they are. They're supporting him.

In, out.

It's time to perform. Loki points his foot and positions himself, drawing his arms above his head. The crowd falls silent. The familiar music begins to stream through the speakers, urging him to begin his routine almost automatically. He turns and slides around the ice rink, spinning and leaping and twisting and twirling. It's Imagine Dragons and their song "Monster". He remembers listening to this song for the first time after a night at Tony's, sitting curled up with him on the couch, just listening to the pace of each other's breaths. After that, he knew that he had to have it for his Olympian routine.

Loki moves himself gracefully and he's relieved that it's all going so well. He doesn't think he'll fall; he's never fallen in competition in his whole life. He's been far too careful for that. He skates and slides and twirls.

People think he's going to push himself too far. They're probably right. He trains more often than necessary. But after those games, he'd retire with a gold medal around his neck and the feeling of satisfaction. He'd never been satisfied with himself.

_"Loki, you must keep going," his father would tell him. "Keep training, keep practising." _

Odin would train him until he was ready to collapse. But he hadn't minded, what else was he meant to do with his time? Loki never had any friends. The other kids would tease him for being so proper and feminine. And Thor was busy with his hockey. Too busy to play with his little brother. Loki understood though—Thor was training as hard as Loki was with his skating. The training had paid off for the both of them, Thor had made it to the major leagues, only just missing out on a spot in the Olympics and Loki was skating in the single mens free skate, representing the United States of America. Thor loved him no matter what, he knew that. He was his only friend during school.

He used to be an outcast, a lone wolf. Well, until it came to Tony.

Loki spun and spun and spun around the rink, before he leapt into the air. The crowed oo'ed and ahh'ed at his routine.

_"Hey there, sweet cheeks," the boy had said with a wink. "I get off at 7 if you want to grab a bite to eat with me."_

_Loki had snorted. "And why would I want to do that?"_

_"Because you're an attractive guy and I'm an attractive guy—it's inevitable that we get together_. _Besides, I really want to tap that ass."_

_Loki punched him in the face and broke his nose._

The charm had worked—eventually. Loki played hard to get for another couple of months, which was difficult as Tony worked at the rink he trained in. They became best friends, with benefits of course. But after Loki wins the competition and has the gold medal hanging around his neck, he's going to ask Tony to be his boyfriend. Nothing makes him happier than the thought of him saying yes.

Loki spins again on the tip of his toe, arching his back and lifting his leg effortlessly into his arms. He smiles as his thinks of Tony. The music plays louder still, drowning his thoughts and allowing him to fully immerse himself in the routine.

Take a deep breath, in and out.

Step, step, slide, skate, and turn. Step, skate, jump, spin, spin, spin and skate.

He hasn't made a single mistake so far, and the crowd cheers as he twirls in the air. Now for the finale.

Loki skates faster and faster and faster until the spectators become a blur. He then jumps into the air, sailing through it and turns, turns, turns before landing. The crowd hoots and shouts. They applaud. Their clapping is for him. He smiles widely, a real smile. Almost instantly after landing, he jumps into the air once again.

Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, and spin.

Breathe, just breathe—in and out.

Spin, spin, spin, land...

...and _crunch_.

He gasps at the pain exploding through his leg as he fell. It ricochets up his nerves. Loki fell. He's falling. For the first time ever, he's falling in a competition. He hits the ground with a bang, his ankle and face screaming at him as they collide with the freezing ice. Loki makes no sound. He's silent with shock.

The crowd goes quiet.

Loki struggles to take a breath. Breathe, just breathe; in and out. He put his mask on, concealing his emotions. Outside he looks indifferent, staring at the ground in perfect silence and shuddering from his struggled breathing. But inside he's crying, sobbing, shouting, breaking. He's lost. He can't finish his routine now. It's over, everything is over. He fucked up. He fucked up the most important day of his life.

No, he can do it. He can finish.

Loki attempts to stand, but his ankle is shrieking in pain and can't support his weight. He slips back down to the ground heavily, hitting his head and making his vision blur.

He vaguely feels the paramedics come to get him. They're helping him onto a stretcher where his leg is splinted and his skates are taken away from him. He wants to shout at the paramedics to not take his skates, he can finish the routine.

Loki can't stand how quiet the arena is. He looks to his family. They're just staring at him in complete shock. He feels tears track down his face and he dabs at his eyes, his gloved fingers soaking up the salty liquid. His heavy make-up starts to run down his cheeks in streaks. He places his arm over his eyes so no one can see him crying and starts to sob, his body shaking with the force of them.

He's lifted out of the rink and he can feel the paramedics taking his pulse, he can hear them say something about checking for a concussion, he can smell the antiseptic in the ambulance, he can taste his tears. He lifts his arm from his face and is almost blinded by the light. A paramedic straps a plastic collar around his throat.

Loki can't breathe. He can't breathe; he needs to breathe. He's gasping for breath as the doors close on him. The walls are closing in on him, there are too many people there, and everyone is there except for his family because they're probably too disappointed to come see him. Thor will ignore him, his mother will cry and Tony will reject him.

He lost. There will be no gold medal for him. His sick father will probably die of the shame.

He can't breathe.

"He's hyperventilating, put him on the tank!"

A mask is placed over his mouth and oxygen rushes into his lungs, but it doesn't help him breathe.

"It'll be okay, honey, it's not that bad. You were fantastic out there," a stranger's voice soothes him. A hand strokes over his hair and he flinches away from it. He doesn't like to be touched. "Your family is following right behind us and we'll get you to the hospital, safe and sound, alright?"

He shakes his head. No, no they wouldn't want to see the failure that is Loki, the figure skater who broke his ankle on his final thirty seconds of his routine. His throat is closing up and the throbbing pain in his ankle heightens.

He lost the Olympics, he didn't complete his routine. He doesn't get a second chance and he doesn't get a medal. 15 years of his life are wasted.

"Oh god, please, keep breathing," the nurse says. "Slowly, in and out, okay? In... and out. Calm down, honey, it's okay."

In and out. In and out. Breathe in... and out.

Just breathe.

Notes: Thank you to Kourtney for beta'ing! I may or may not continue this... we'll see :)


	3. PROLOGUE: Tony

Loki just sits and stares at the wall. He just sits there and does nothing. Tony runs his thumb over the back of Loki's hand and sighs heavily. The smell of the hospital stings his nostrils.

This has been going on for days now, Loki catatonic with shock. The nurses and doctors had reassured him through a translator that he's fine; he just needs some time alone. Tony groans and kneads the bridge of his nose.

"I miss you, Lokes," he murmurs. "Please come back." Tears rise to Tony's eyes but he knuckles them away harshly. He clears his throat, hoping that the sound arouses some sort of reaction, but Loki still just sits and stares. "Thor and your mother are waiting down in the cafeteria, you know. They want to see you. Why won't you let them see you?"

At last, after days of nothing, Loki shakes his head.

Tony smiles widely, in spite of the situation around him. "Okay, I get it."

The two are silent for a few moments; Loki has apparently withdrawn back into his mind. Tony feels anger broiling up.

"Loki, you can't just escape this! This is life, and you have to deal with it, okay? The doctors have told you that it was a clean break, and you're going to be fine. With some therapy, you'll be back on those skates within the year. You are going to be okay," Tony snaps. Loki doesn't say anything, instead turning his head away from Tony, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes.

"Loki... just don't leave me alone. Don't leave me."

Loki still does not say anything, and Tony sighs again. The beeping of the machines are the only sounds in the room. Tony then has an idea. He reaches down into the bag at his feet and pulls out an American newspaper. "I can't believe I actually wasted money buying a newspaper for you, Lokes, you're so old-fashioned. But here are the news—look, you made the front page, see?"

Tony has expertly folded the page over so the pictures of Loki on the ground and being loaded into an ambulance are covered. The man looks over nonchalantly, but doesn't comment. He only shakes his head.

"And look around you—" Loki's hospital room is filled to the brim with bunches of both exotic and simple flowers, all of the tables have been piled with cards and letters and 'get well soon!' balloons are everywhere.

"They're worrying for you. People care about you, sweetie," Tony whispers, running a hand over Loki's knee. "I care about you, your family cares about you. _America_ cares about you. But you won't let anyone in. We all just want to know how you are, if you're okay." He pauses, staring at Loki longingly. "Are you... okay?"

Loki's head turns to him, quickly. He looks confused, as if he barely believes that that question was uttered to him. His eyes drop to his lap and his bottom lip trembles. Tony moves closer to him. Big, hot tears drop onto Loki's lap, wetting the hospital sheets. Loki shakes his head and a sob shudders through his body. Soon, his whole body is shaking with the force of his sobs and he's wailing.

His friend vacates his seat and sits on the bed, dragging Loki to his chest. "Shhh. Honey, it's okay. It's going to be fine. Aw, Loki," he whines while Loki sobs into his shoulder. He strokes his hair and hugs him tightly. "It's okay."

The door clicks open and Tony looks up to see Thor walking toward them. Thor's face is rigid as well as his stance. He looks majorly upset. He clenches and unclenches his fists, his hockey instincts probably telling him to hit something. Thor clears his throat.

"Loki," he murmurs. "Brother."

Said brother looks up to him, tears still dripping down his face. "Thor," he rasps, his voice scratchy from disuse. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I failed. I'm sorry." He starts sobbing. "Please don't hate me. I tried so _hard_."

Thor's eyes soften and he sweeps over to gather Loki in his arms. Tony shifts over back to his chair. Thor presses a kiss to his forehead, his own tears trickling down his cheeks. "You didn't fail, little brother. You are the best skater in the world; it was just bad luck. I love you."

Loki shakes his head and sobs again, burying his face in Thor's chest and squeezing him around the waist. "I lost. I was stupid and got ahead of myself and I fell like a fucking idiot. I fucked up what was going to be the best day of my life."

The blond shushes him and kisses his cheek. He wipes a tear away with his thumb. "You didn't fuck up, okay? You're amazing."

Loki sobs even harder. "I'm a disappointment."

"Please don't say those things—"

"I'm sorry," he wails. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I let everyone down."

Even Tony starts to cry.

* * *

It's only a few days later when Loki's discharged. Tony watches him carefully from the doorway as he looks over the room, checking for anything that he's forgotten. He looks thinner and smaller, somehow, swamped by the jumper Thor lent him and shadowed by the sunglasses and cap he wears. He wears baggy jeans to cover the cast on his leg. He's wearing everything that Loki Laufey-Odinson would never be caught dead in. Not that the clothes will help very much, the press are right downstairs in the foyer.

"Loki," Tony calls. "You ready?"

Loki turns to him and nods. "Yes. Let's get the fuck out of Russia." He hops over to Tony on his forearm crutches and gives him a half-hearted smile.

Tony looks over to the bed, his face falling. "You're not going to take them?"

Loki joins his gaze. "I have no need for them anymore." He limps away from the room, leaving Tony to carry his leftover bags.

He stares at the bed for a long moment, debating whether he should take them. At last he decides he should respect Loki's decision and picks the bags up, leaving the room still full of deflating balloons and withering flowers.

The shiny black ice skates still sit on the bed as the door closes.

* * *

**Notes:** Thanks to Kourtney for beta'ing and for being amazing 3  
Please, please review!  
PS: The next chapter is set a year into the future :P


	4. Chapter 1

**11 MONTHS LATER – JANUARY 2015**

"Hurry the hell up, Tony! I want to get to the shops before they close."

"Coming!" Tony yells back. He then murmurs into his phone, "Yeah, love you too, Pepper. I'll talk later, I've gotta go to a meeting. 'Kay, bye, babe." He stuffs his mobile in his pocket and picks up his keys. "I'm ready, Lokes, let's go, go, go!"

Tony stumbles down the stairs of Thor's house, almost slipping down the bottom one before bouncing over to an irritated Loki. Loki stands near the doorway, a heavy coat drawn over his shoulders, looking livid.

"This is the last time I'm waiting for you," he says. "If you're not ready next time, I'm leaving without you."

"Ah-hah! So you're not really pissed at me, otherwise there wouldn't be a next time," Tony says, grinning. He quickly dodges around Loki who tries to hit him. His laughter echoes through the door as he speeds out of the house.

Loki smiles brightly and starts to run after him, but then hesitates, glancing down to his ankle. He stiffly rotates it in the air and sighs. He puts his foot back down on the ground. He walks out of the house, locking the door behind him. Tony's already in the car by the time he's trudged through the snow.

"Hurry up, Snowflake," he calls, beeping the horn. "And you were complaining about _me_ being slow."

"Well, I'm sorry if I've got a gammy ankle that just won't quit bugging me," Loki grumbles as he slides into the passenger seat. He adjusts his coat over his shoulders and buries himself into the leather, sighing deeply.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Dude, you broke your ankle like a year ago, it's _fine_. Stop being a baby, you baby."

Loki shoots him a burning glare. "Shut it, short-arse. Now drive, chop chop." He gestures toward the driveway behind them that Tony reverses down.

"So where exactly are we going?" Tony asks as they start on their way. He hits his head jokingly. "Oh, right, duh. The fucking grocery store, because that's the only place you ever go out to anymore. Jeez, Loki, you need to get a life. Come out for drinks with Pepper and I, she won't mind. She likes you."

Loki snorts softly ad shakes his head. "Pepper would like to see my head on a pike. She hates my guts, Tony; if she even knew that you were taking me to the shops she would freak out." He runs a hand through his silky black hair and ruffles it at the back.

"She doesn't _hate _you. And I'm sure she'll be fine with me taking you out. It's not like we're exes or something—"

"Yeah, just ex-fuck buddies." Loki casts a smirk in Tony's direction.

Tony chuckles. "Okay, you got me there. But really, you have to go out more. Have fun while you're on your skating break."

"Tony, I told you. It's not a break. I've officially retired. Dad left me enough money in his will to live off and now I'm just... relaxing."

"I don't believe you when you say that you've retired. You're going to come back. If you don't, then I'm going to make you."

He looks down at his feet, sighing. "You don't understand."

The rest of the drive is in uncomfortable silence.

* * *

Tony actually has the audacity to ride on the back of the trolley like a four-year-old, whooping and yelling as he whizzes through the grocery store. Loki pretends not to know him, but ultimately fails as he is forced to deposit the food he picks up in the trolley as Tony zooms past. The other shoppers give them weird looks.

They eventually make it to the fruit and vegetable section, Tony still spinning around on the cart. He drops a bag of oranges into the basket as Tony goes past him and then whirls around, putting his hands on the frame and halting the momentum of the shopping cart. "Stop it," he hisses through gritted teeth. Loki locks eyes with his friend. "People are staring at us, Tony. Kindly stop acting like a child and act your own age of twenty-eight."

"Aw, you wound me, Loki." He pretends to stab himself with a nearby banana and stumbles backwards as if he were in pain. Unfortunately for Tony, he stumbles backwards into an elderly woman who proceeds to hit him with her handbag repeatedly. "Ow! Ow! Lady, stop—I'm sorry!"

Loki laughs at his friend as he is repeatedly bashed with a Chanel bag, not bothering to do anything about it.

"You brute!" She shouts in a shrill voice. "Don't you ever touch me again!" She primps her scarf and hair before sauntering off.

He points and giggles as Tony gathers himself, groaning and whining. Soon, he's wheezing from the force of his laughter.

"Stop laughing at me," Tony grumbles as he hobbles off toward the apples. His face and neck have gone bright red. "You can be such a dick sometimes."

"Oh, oh," Loki gasps, still rocking with laughter. "Says the overload of the dicks, Emperor Dick, himself!" He clutches at his stomach and leans back onto his trolley in order to hold himself up. "I can't breathe for laughing!"

Tony scowls and throws a strawberry at him. Loki dodges it with an angered gasp. It skims past him and thankfully doesn't leave a smear on his white leather coat.

"This is an expensive jacket, Tone," he growls, fisting the material. "Do not test my rage when it comes to my clothes."

The shorter man smirks and throws his hands up in defeat. "Okay, Princess."

Loki is about to say something else when he feels something tugging insistently at the corner of said jacket. He looks down and blinks. A little boy no more than 9 years old has appeared at his side, staring up at him in awe. No doubt his height is intimidating him, Loki thinks. He gives him a crooked smile and says, "May I help you, kind sir?"

The kid with messy, blond hair continues to stare at him. Loki furrows his brow, looking over to Tony, who shrugs. "Are your parents-?"

"Are you Loki Laufey-Odinson?" The kid asks in wonder, as if he were in a dream.

Loki's mouth opens in shock, but he closes it quickly. "Um, yes, I am."

The boy gasps loudly, pressing his hands to his mouth and his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. "Mom!" He screams into the store. "Mom, it _is _him! I told you it's him!" The boy sprints off into the shop, disappearing behind a pyramid of canned peaches.

Tony sidles up to Loki. "What was that about?"

"No clue," Loki murmurs, a frown still etched on his face.

"You think he recognises you from the Olympics?" Loki turns to Tony, who is grinning and nodding. "I bet he does."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

Before Tony can reply, the boy appears again, dragging a middle-aged woman, also with blonde hair, after him. The woman's surprise is evident in the widening of her eyes.

"Oh, wow," she says, excitedly. She sticks a hand into her handbag, rummaging around. "It really is you! Can Michael take a photo with you? He's a big fan of yours!" The mother asks, excitedly as she pulls out her phone. 'Michael' looked up at Loki, smiling, albeit unsurely.

"Um...?" Tony nudges him forward slightly. "Yeah, okay." Loki squats down next to Michael in his tight skinny jeans. The boy shuffles next to him. He looks at Michael as he beams at the camera. Loki turns and looks into the lens, nervously, and flashes a nervous smile. The camera goes off and he starts to stand up, only to be stopped by little arms throwing themselves around his neck. Loki gives a shocked breath, but suppresses his need to pull away.

"Thanks, Loki," the boys says into his neck in a muffled voice. "You're the best." Loki's expression softens. He hugs Michael back, closing his eyes. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up. I've been practising my skating and everything. When I'm old enough I'll be going to Nationals, just like you did. And then the Olympics, too."

Loki pulls back, and looks at him for a long moment. He then smiles, sadly, his eyes glazing over. He voice trembles as he says, "Well, then if you practice hard and set your mind to it, you can do anything. You might even be better than I am."

Tony stands up straight, a smirk playing on his lips. Maybe he won't lose hope in Loki yet.

"Nah, no one's better than you," Michael says. "The Nationals this year was so boring. No one even compared to you." He looks down towards Loki's feet and the man shifts uncomfortably. "Your ankle's all better, yeah? Will I see you on TV again?"

Tony turns his gaze to Loki again, holding his breath. Loki laughs quietly, looking away then looking back. He runs a hand through his hair. "No. I don't think you will." Loki pats Michael on the shoulder, and then stands. "My friend and I should go, we have our shopping to do and I'm sure you have your own. It was good to meet you, Michael." He gives Tony a look as he walks off with their trolley, heading toward the counters.

Tony winks at Michael. "I would be betting to all your friends that he's going to make a comeback, Mikey."

"It's Michael."

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

Loki strides alongside the string of shops, Tony struggling to catch up with him.

"Slow down, there, Legs," he calls, panting slightly. "I can't keep up."

"I'm the crippled one here, Tony. You should be telling _me _to hurry up, not the other way around." The taller man rolls his eyes and quickens his pace, the grocery bags knocking against his knees. While walking, Loki catches sight of something very familiar: a sport shop. And what better than to have a pair of ice skates in the window for the winter season? Loki grits his teeth, locks his jaw and defiantly stomps past.

"Whoa, there, Frosty," Tony wheezes, while fisting a hand in Loki's poor battered jacket. "Gimme a break, will you?" Loki stops in his fast pace, rolling his eyes again. He taps his foot as Tony bends over, trying to catch his breath back. He spares a glance at the window next to them before straightening up. Loki's posture stiffens. "Hey, look, ice skates!" He turns and grins at Loki. "If you want I can get you a pair!"

"I think I can do without them, thank you. I've told you before, I don't skate any more."

"Aw, don't be that way." Tony pouts and flutters his eyelashes. "Come on, let me do this for you. They're cheap- the Boxing Day sales are still going on."

"I said no, Tony."

"You want them I can tell; I saw your face when you were speaking to lil Mick-"

"Michael."

"You want to skate again, Loki. We all know that, _you_ know that. And look how cheap they are!"

Loki screws up his face and joins Tony at the window, peering at the display skates. He snorts and shakes his head, his black curls falling onto his face. "Of course they're cheap, Tony, they're practically off the rack. Look at them. If you so desperately want to get me skates, Riedell boots are the best quality you can get. But don't get me just any old blades; they have to be John Wilson Gold Seal blades. These ones here," he points to the shop's skates, "are ghastly and will break ever so easily."

Tony smiles brightly. "Duly noted."

Loki blinks down at his friend, before snatching his hand away from the glass. He shakes his head and readjusts the bags in his hands. "Come on, then."

Tony follows along behind him, decidedly more compliant than before.

* * *

He calls Pepper when they get home to inform her that he's staying for the night. When she asks him why, he just replies with a "Love ya, Pep, bye" before hanging up. Tony tries not to think about the consequences of that. He's been going out with Pepper for months now. After Loki fell at the Olympics, he convinced himself that he wasn't ready for a relationship and got together with the tall redhead he works with. Yeah, she was more like a friend to him but she really liked him. So why not? The Loki thing sure wasn't going anywhere.

Loki goes to bed early as usual, leaving Tony and Thor to clean up the dishes from their dinner. Tony isn't usually this helpful, in fact he usually jeers at Thor in his apron as he labours in the kitchen, but the poor guy looks so exhausted it was hard _not_ to offer help. Thor used to be a hockey player, but gave it up about a year ago to help Loki with his rehabilitation. When Loki officially announced his retirement, Thor decided that he would become an elementary school teacher. Which he did. But boy, those little kids were like little demons. Thor loves it though; he's grown attached to the children.

Thor tucks a lock of blond hair behind his ear and huffs. He scrubs harder at a plate, ridding it of the scraps. He hands it to Tony whom dries it half-heartedly.

"So, um," Tony says, nervously. "Thor?"

He hums with his tongue sticking out a fraction while working on a particularly stubborn stain.

"How was... work?"

"It was fine. Jack tore up the carpet during reading time again which was a nightmare," Thor sighs. "That little terror. Luckily Jane was walking past at the time and took him to the principal's office for me."

Tony raises an eyebrow and takes the stack of plates over to the cupboard. "Jane, huh? How're things going between you two?"

He swears that the lightest of pinks instantly spreads across Thor's cheeks and nose at the mere mention of her name. "Well enough, I suppose. We spoke a little at lunch today." He shrugs and unplugs the sink, watching the soapy water drain away. "And I made her laugh. She has the best laugh, Tony. It's like tinkling bells. It makes me—"

"Okay, Cupid. That's enough. Stop before I puke."

"Good night, boys," a voice carries down to the room. Tony and Thor look up to see Loki ducking his head down the stairs and waving to them. He's already in his pyjamas—one of Tony's old band shirts and red silky boxers, which also belonged to Tony once. Loki had claimed them when they were "kind-of-but-not-really" together and just never returned them. Tony didn't mind.

"'Night, Lokes," Tony says, giving him a salute.

"Good night, brother."

Loki nods once and then heads back up stairs. Tony waits until he hears Loki's bedroom door slam shut before he practically pounces onto Thor.

"Loki's thinking about skating again!"

Thor's eyes widen to the size of the plates they just washed. "Really? Did he say that?" He dries his hand off on a dishtowel and tosses it over his shoulder.

"Well, not _exactly_, but I could totally tell. We met a tiny fan of his today, and geez, Thor, you should have seen the way he lit up. He looked genuinely happy, his first real smile in almost a year. And then later we walked past some ice skates and he went on this whole rant about which skates are the best, and he actually had to stop himself from talking! He's really into it, Thor, I think he's going to give it another shot—"

"I think you're getting way ahead of yourself, Anthony," Thor rumbles, shaking his head. He pushes past the shorter man into the living room. He sits down heavily into the armchair.

"I'm not! I know I'm not!" Tony races into the living room after Thor and leaps over to his seat. He braces his arms on either side of the chair, caging Thor. "You should have seen him! He wants to skate again, and his ankle's fine. We all know that! If he starts training now, he could even make the next Olympics."

Thor shakes his head again, running a hand through his thick blond hair. "I don't know, Tony..."

"Do you even remember what he was like when he broke his ankle?" Tony asks. "Fucking miserable. He's been an absolute rude, sad prick for the past year because he isn't skating. I guarantee that once he gets back on the ice, he'll have that stick up his ass removed and be the cheeky, cocky Loki we all know. Look, Thor, I'm asking you..." he moves down to his knees and knits his hands together as if in prayer, "_begging_ you to help me. Please?"

Thor purses his lips. He takes a deep breath. "If I help... will you admit your feelings to my brother?"

Tony stands up. "Ah, come on, Thor. You know I can't do that." He starts pacing back and forth. "I have Pepper now. And it's going great. Better than great, actually."

"Are you in love with her?" Tony looks at Thor, who has raised an eyebrow and is looking at Tony in interest.

He stands stock still, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Um, I don't know. No, I guess?"

"But you are in love with my brother?"

Tony places his hands on his hips. "... No. I'm past that now. He's my _friend_. My _best _friend. Not my fuck buddy any more, just my friend."

"He could have been more than your friend if you'd have asked him out when you planned to," Thor points out.

"Um, yeah, no. If I'd asked him out when I was going to, I would have been shot down. That was the wrong time to do it. Way wrong. Loki was unstable, he wasn't thinking clearly. He needed his space to be sad. I let him be sad and then I found Pepper, so there. And it's not like he had feelings for me!"

Thor stands up, puffing out his muscular chest. "He wouldn't have been as sad if you had just manned up and asked him to be your boyfriend, Stark!"

Tony sighs loudly and barely supresses a stamp of his foot. "This isn't about that, okay! This is about getting Loki back into the sport that he loves. Something that he survives off. Just help _me_," he jabs a thumb into his chest, "help _him_, Thor."

The bigger man slumps back into his chair and runs his hands over his face. He peeks through a gap in his fingers. He asks in a muffled voice, "Do you really believe that Loki would listen to us?"

"I do. I really do. We just have to be prepared, get everything ready for our diva."

Thor nods and twiddles his thumbs. "I think I may know someone who can help." A crease forms between his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Well, father is no longer around, so he'll need a new coach, won't he?" He looks incredulously at Tony.

"Huh. Didn't really think of the finer details to this plan."

Thor rolls his eyes and throws Tony a grin. "I'll take care of it, Tony. You have my word; I will try my best to help out. I want to see him back on the ice as much as you do." He raises a finger and shakes it at Tony. "But if he says no to this, you will respect his wishes. No question about it, you _will_."

Tony throws up his hands. "Okay, okay, I promise." He looks at Thor for a long moment before grinning widely.

* * *

Loki is woken up the next morning by something heavy thumping to the floor. He blinks blearily and yawns, screwing his face up at the horrible taste of morning breath. He turns his tired gaze to the carpeted floor where a golden-wrapped box lies. It takes a while for his sleep-muddled brain to comprehend what he's staring at, but when it does, he snatches up the surprisingly heavy box up into his lap.

He scans his eyes over the plain card and smiles fondly at the familiar scrawl.

_Morning, Legs. Sorry I had to leave early. I had these specially ordered yesterday for you. I hope you put them to good use. Tony xxx_

Loki places the card down beside him softly. He digs his hands into the paper and rips it off cleanly, tossing it away. He looks down onto a box- a very familiar looking box. His palms turn sweaty and he tries to swallow past the enormous lump that has formed in his throat. Loki lifts the lid off the box and chokes back a sob.

He covers his mouth with both his hands as he looks down to a beautiful pair of Riedell boots with John Wilson Gold Seal blades. Just like the ones he told Tony about. He lifts one out experimentally, running a finger along the flat side of the blade.

_Falling, colliding, crashing..._

_"Broken the bone in two—"_

_"Lost the Olympics—"_

_Falling, breaking, fading..._

_"I miss you, Lokes. Please come back."_

Tears start rolling down his face like a wave and he sobs deep in his throat. Loki grabs the box and the skates in tense hands and shoves them under his bed. He kicks them in among the other keepsakes he keeps under there and rushes out of the room. The door slams shut behind him and he collapses against it, sliding to the floor.

He gathers his knees in his arms and starts rocking back and forth, his tears ever flowing and his sobs never faltering. How can Tony ever expect him to return to skating when he's this much of a wreck?

* * *

**Notes: **I hope you enjoyed it! It's not my best work but I was suffering writer's block.

Happy holidays! :)


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